


Approval Neither Desired or Required

by agrajag



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Brief Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrajag/pseuds/agrajag
Summary: [I]t had been Eddie who had been brave first. (It was the second thing that came back to Richie, after fucking Pennywise and his giant fucking nose.)Richie could see it as clear as day in his mind -- the one night that Eddie had packed a bag with as much of his stuff as he could fit, biked over to Richie's house, got his attention by throwing some rocks at his window, and told him they were running away.Yeah, not 'asked.' Told.Richie hadn't even hesitated[.]It wasn't until they had passed the state line that their memories started getting hazy. [...] Eddie had been recalling a funny anecdote that happened with Bev, but then he couldn't remember her name.As frustrated tears welled in his eyes, he grabbed the front of Richie's shirt and kissed him.(Because he 'wanted to do that before I forgot howbadlyI've always wanted to.')Richie and Eddie leave Derry together and get married.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 126





	Approval Neither Desired or Required

**Author's Note:**

> happy one year of clown town! [honks clown nose]

Rushing through the emergency exit so he could quickly purge the insides of his stomach was sadly second nature to Richie. No, what made this scary was the reason he was sick. It wasn't nerves from the show, but the phone call he had received. And subsequently all the memories that came flooding back as a result.

 _Holy shit_. He had to call Eddie.

He was just about to tap Eddie's name when Steve came swooping in to 'save' the day, unfortunately.

"Can I get some water?' he asked a passing PA as he steered Richie toward the stage.

"No water. Bourbon," Richie demanded, sounding like a caveman.

"I thought Eddie had you guys on a no alcohol diet?" Steve asked, eyeing him cautiously. Good man still handed Richie the glass the PA had returned with, though. "Careful there. People find out you're not actually whipped and it'll ruin your entire reputation."

"I bet you ten bucks wherever Eddie is, he's also drinking," Richie said.

He threw back his bourbon as Steve muttered something about him being cheap, and then next thing he knew, he was being shoved onto the stage.

(Later, once he had bombed for the first time since he was 22 and had ran back to the hotel with his tail between his legs, he finally was able to call Eddie. Only to find out his husband had crashed his car when he received his phone call from Mike and, after dealing with the other driver's insurance and police and a tow truck, he had stumbled to the nearest bar and climbed into the bottom of a Judy Garland.

"That is, like, the gayest drink you could have ordered, Eds," Richie managed to get out between his laughter.

"We haven't drank in a year, dipshit. I didn't want to shock my system," Eddie explained. "And besides, I _am_ gay. Why shouldn't I drink gay drinks?")

And, yeah, that was the plot twist. Now that he had his memories back, Richie knew exactly _why_ his internalized homophobia was so intense. (He couldn't speak for Eddie, although he had a feeling that it was pretty much the same.) That fucking clown tried to quite literally scare him straight, but at some point, Richie had decided to be brave and live his life how he wanted -- consequences be damned.

Well, it had been Eddie who had been brave first. 

(It was the second thing that came back to Richie, after fucking Pennywise and his giant fucking nose.)

Richie could see it as clear as day in his mind -- the one night that Eddie had packed a bag with as much of his stuff as he could fit, biked over to Richie's house, got his attention by throwing some rocks at his window, and told him they were running away.

Yeah, not 'asked.' Told.

Richie hadn't even hesitated, throwing a couple of shirts, his favorite comic book, and his spare glasses into his gym bag, and then he was jumping out the window and climbing down the trellis. 

It wasn't until they had passed the state line that their memories started getting hazy. Richie had been driving his rusted pick up through the night and Eddie eventually insisted they part with some of their cash to get a hotel room for the night after Richie had yawned for the tenth or so time. Richie had hated to admit it, but Eddie was right, as he always was. He had face planted onto the bed as soon as they waltzed into the room, because they had agreed it was best to still save as much as they could and got a single room, and Eddie started lecturing him about the cons of not changing before sleeping. So they had both gotten ready for bed, and yet they didn't doze off immediately. It may have been that it was the middle of the afternoon, but Richie had suspected it was that he enjoyed Eddie's company too much to stop their conversation. Eddie had been recalling a funny anecdote that happened with Bev, but then he couldn't remember her name.

As frustrated tears welled in his eyes, he grabbed the front of Richie's shirt and kissed him.

(Because he 'wanted to do that before I forgot how _badly_ I've always wanted to.')

The next morning, they had woken up, entwined together, but with no recollection of the night before, who each other was, or where either of them had been headed. So, over the complimentary stale muffins and cold coffee, they had decided to travel together until their memories returned, but even as they had left the hotel, Richie had a feeling that nothing was going to stop him from following Eddie.

They had driven down the coast, spending a lot of time on the beaches, mainly so Richie could make money busking, but also because Eddie seemed to love relaxing there, despite being incredibly wary of them.

('Do you see this band aid in the sand, Richie? This place is disgusting,' he would say, but then he'd be laying back on his towel, a smile on his face, as he soaked up the sun.)

Still, eventually, they had grown tired of the similar scenery, and something was tugging them West, so they saved up and moved to the south side of Chicago. Richie had started performing a comedy routine in night clubs uptown and Eddie had gotten a job at a local auto shop. It may not have seemed like much, but they were both doing something they absolutely loved, and they were happy.

But then Richie's popularity grew. His name became synonymous with Chicago, like hot dogs with mustard and deep dish pizza.

(And, damn, now he was hungry.)

If he had to pick a favorite time in his career, this would be it. Sure, he had been deep in the closet, but he had been making enough money to spoil Eddie, which was the important part. And he deserved it, considering that lot of Richie's material was about his neurotic 'girlfriend.'

But everything started to change. Ellen came out. The pervy president signed a bill that stopped employers from discriminating against someone for their sexual orientation. To Wong Foo was released, which Richie went to see in theaters, like, ten times.

It was enough to embolden Richie, and so one night, he had gotten up on the stage and simply changed a few pronouns. And then there was no looking back.

He lost a decent amount of his fan base. Fuck, of course he did, but he realized he'd rather go back to obscurity than have homophobes for fans.

He didn't fade into obscurity, however. Instead, he was flung into the big time. He was booked for gigs all over the city, and then outside of the city. Talk show hosts wanted to interview him. He was put on magazine covers. He started doing comedy tours that would envy another Cher farewell tour. He even had a guest appearance on Queer as Folk.

(No, he didn't fuck Brain, thank you very much.)

Then he had started writing movie scripts that actually got green lit and that he actually was cast to play the gross, trashy character that totally wasn't a self insert. He even got to do voice work for some kid's movies, and that honestly was his favorite thing. He had told Eddie literally after the first recording session had ever had, that he wanted to do that once he was tired of all the other shit. 

(He didn't think he could ever 'retire' exactly, because sitting still wasn't an option, and voice work was fun and easy.)

Because he and Eddie discussed things like their collective future. It had been over a decade, and neither of them remembered their past, but they knew that they were each other's future. Sure, they had stopped telling people the whole truth of their 'meeting' because some assholes suggested they had stayed together because they had been scared or simply out of convenience or (the worst) because they didn't know any better.

Did it matter how they had got there? Richie loved Eddie more than anything else in the world, and he had made it as official as it could get a year ago once gay marriage had been legalized. When they had discussed that collective future, of course it extended to 'forever' but neither of them had ever dared dream of being able to physically put a ring on it.

Which is why Richie had to assure several passerby that Eddie was alright as he had fallen to the sand around Lake Michigan, bawling his eyes out when Richie had gotten down on one knee and proposed.

('I couldn't believe you could be so damn romantic,' Eddie had said later. 'Excuse me for being surprised.'

Although, Richie was _always_ romantic, and they both knew this, and he _still_ had managed to surprise Eddie. That had been the real reason he had been overcome with emotions.)

Their wedding had been nearly perfect. At the time, Richie had thought it _was_ , although there was that little part of him that felt something was missing. That part never went away, and hadn't since that morning he woke up in that dingy hotel room, so he had learned to deal with it. Like, so what if neither of them had family to walk them down the aisle? That was an outdated, sexist tradition for the straights, anyway. And maybe it was a little pathetic that neither of them had a close enough friend to be their best man, and Steve ended up giving them the rings during the ceremony, but Steve was an awesome manager and somewhat like a friend, so that didn't put a damper on their day.

(And now, as Richie was booking his flight, coordinating with Eddie via text, he was so fucking pissed that he didn't get to have Stan or Bev up there with him. He was pissed that Eddie didn't have Mike or Bill.

Obviously Ben would have to be in the audience, because he would be tearing up far too much to be much help.)

The could renew their vows, Richie decided, once they dealt with the fucking clown for the second time. Now that would be a hell of a way to celebrate. He really couldn't wait to show off, bragging to the other Losers that the Trashmouth managed to snag the hottest guy in Derry.

(Other than Mike. Richie had looked him up on Facebook because he was only human, okay?)

That didn't mean he was above messing with everyone first, since he and Eddie were going to be arriving separately.

You'd think as a professional actor (technically he was) he would have been better at hiding his heart eyes when he saw Eddie already at the restaurant when he arrived. But he'd been away from his husband for months at that point, so could you really blame him?

"Look at these assholes," Eddie said, and Mike offered Richie a pitying look, so it appeared he was in the clear after all.

It was hectic as the seven of them got seated, put in their orders, and downed the first round of shots. Richie was so happy to catch up with his friends, that he didn't think too much about how none of them seemed as worried as he and Eddie were. He supposed in due time they'd get around to discussing their red nosed problem.

For the moment, it was alright that they were passing the time talking about their significant others. Bev didn't say much about her husband outside of mentioning that they worked together, but Bill talked about his wife, the famous movie star, and Stan spent the entire appetizer gushing about his wife Patty.

Richie knew it was his and Eddie's turn next, since he clocked that Ben and Mike weren't wearing rings. He took a quick sip of his beer and turned toward Eddie as he cleared his throat.

"So, Eddie, you got married?" he asked, trying to keep his smile in check.

"Yeah, what's it to you dick wad?" Eddie retaliated, leaning across Stan so he could stab a chopstick in Richie's face.

Richie was overjoyed that his husband was content to play along. At least for the time being. 

"Okay, before Eddie kills Richie," Bill cut in, "can we talk about the fact that apparently Richie managed to get married."

Richie mouthed an 'ouch' as everyone started laughing.

"No way," Bev said loudly, the way only someone drunk enough to still get away with claiming they weren't that drunk could be. "No way Trashmouth got married."

"No, yeah. I totally did. Me and Eddie's mom are really happy together."

"You asshole," Eddie said after he had snorted so hard his stupid white wine had come out of his nose.

He pulled the napkin out of his lap to pat at his shirt, and God, Richie loved this ridiculous man.

"So, we're not getting any real information out of Tozier," Stan said, rolling his eyes. "So, Eddie, tell us about your spouse."

"No, wait! You got your turn, Stan! I want to talk about how great my husband is!" Richie shouted, everyone at the table going silent as utensils clanged onto the table.

It would be putting it mildly to say that the Losers were shocked. Well, except for Eddie. of course. _He_ was hiding behind his hands, face most likely red from trying not to laugh and give up the ghost.

"There's some things you can't joke about," Bill told Richie, trying to look serious, but it was tough considering how flushed he was.

(He had patted Mike's back as he said it, and that was something they were going to have to come back to. 

Apparently they did travel in packs, after all.)

"Wow," Richie said, dead pan. "You're seriously telling me none of you have watched my stand up? I mean, I know I'm not as famous as Gaffigan, but I'm definitely above Dunam. Please tell me I'm more popular than Dunam."

"You're more popular than Dunam," Eddie muttered as Mike said, almost fondly, "No, I've seen your stuff. You're still awful at Voices, you know, but it's good to see you doing something you've always loved."

"Well, I was going to say 'fuck you' but thanks man. I have been super lucky to make it."

"Wait, so Richie actually _is_ married to a man, then?" Bev asked. "Well, congratulations!"

"And my condolences to your husband," Stan added. Richie started to sputter like a tugboat while everyone else laughed. Eddie and, surprisingly, Mike the most.

Oh. Of course Mike knew what was up. He had stayed in Derry and remembered everything. He had seen Richie's stand up. There was no mistaking who Richie's husband was. 

He was going to have to send Mike a gift basket for playing along.

"I mean, if putting up with me means he gets unlimited access to this," Richie said, gesturing to... his general flabbiness. "I don't think it's a bad trade off."

Eddie frowned at him -- one that meant 'I sense that sarcasm and know you're putting yourself down. We'll be discussing this later.'

(And they truly had been together for long enough that Richie got all of that from one down turned mouth.)

"So, you said you wanted to 'gush,'" Bev prodded. "So go on. Tell us all about him."

Mike folded his hands, giving Richie a smug look.

"Yeah, Rich. Tell us about him."

"Well, we've been together for, what, 22 years now. But only married for a year because, well, you know." Richie almost jumped when Stan placed a comforting hand on his, but he recovered quickly, and gave it a quick squeeze. "Anyway, he's the cutest yet sexiest yet dorkiest yet most beautiful..."

"We get it," Bill cut in with a laugh.

"Yeah, he's just the best man I know," Richie continued, suddenly as serious as a heart attack. "He's supported me through everything, always been there, and I'm so glad to be here with him and all of you guys."

"Wait," Bill said, doing some mental math as Ben pulled Eddie into a hug and Bev clinked her glass against Richie's beer bottle. "Eddie?!"

"Unfortunately," Eddie confirmed, but the fucking shit eating grin spread across his face gave away how damn proud he actually was of being the 'poor, unfortunate' man married to Richie.

"So 22 years?" Ben asked. "You guys left Derry and then immediately met up again?"

Huh. Guess their friends remembered even less than he and Eddie had. Or maybe even despite their old fart brains catching up, they hadn't noticed he and Eddie's midnight departure in the first place. Richie had to remind himself that surprisingly, the universe did _not_ revolve around him.

"Uh, well, we kind of ran away together," Richie admitted sheepishly. "Although we didn't know that at first, having forgotten. We thought we had gotten black out drunk, hooked up, and that was why we didn't remember each other."

Richie could see the others, other than Mike, looking a little confused, but Eddie steam rolled on as he was wont to do.

"That is not what we thought." Richie stared at him, knowing he'd break. "Okay, yeah, that's what we thought."

"He forbids me from telling the story now that I'm famous. Says people stop him in the grocery store to ask about it, and that it's 'embarrassing.'"

(Literal finger quotes and all.)

Eddie launched a spoonful of rice at Richie, but he hadn't put enough force behind it, and the rice landed on Stan's head.

"Well, I was going to offer to switch seats with one of you, knowing now you're together, but I think I've changed my mind," Stan grumbled. "You don't deserve it."

"Hey, can we maybe stop throwing food at each other like we're kids again and talk about how Richie and Eddie forgot each other, like, right away?" Bill asked. " Like, that's really weird. I had thought..."

"...that you just forgot with age?" Bev offered.

"Exactly. But that was, what? One day after you two left?" Richie and Eddie nodded. "What's going on. You remember something that we don't, Mikey?"

Mike took a deep breath before saying, "Something happens to you. When you leave this town. The more you advance, the more you forget. But I never left, so I remember... I remember everything."

"Pennywise," Richie said, and watched as the color drained from the other four's faces.

"Oh fuck," Stan groaned. "That fucking clown."

"Mike," Bill said before the conversation could derail. "You said you needed help with something. With that?"

"Every 27 years, a kind of echo is repeated in Derry."

"Fuck, that's right. It was exactly 27 years since that summer," Eddie said, and it honestly looked like the others wanted to strangle him and/or Richie for apparently being a step ahead of them.

"What are you guys talking about?" Bev asked.

"No, wait," Mike said, suddenly pulling folders and notebooks and various papers out of his bag. "Listen. We though we stopped him that summer, right?" he asked, pointing to Eddie. "Unfortunately, we we wrong. A week ago, someone killed a man named Adrian Mellon. Lisa Aubrich disappeared last night. They're not the only ones and there will be more."

"You know what happened to them?" Bev asked.

"You know who it was, too," Stan said, started to hyperventilate.

"Hey, take it easy," Ben told him.

"Please, let me explain, guys," Mike said. "That echo? I think we might be able to change it. Richie and Eddie had already proved people can manipulate minutely. They left Derry together, and therefore, they were able to remember quicker."

"You saying true love's kiss or some shit like that made it so I fucking threw up before my show because I remembered that stupid clown?" Richie asked with a scoff. "Well, damn. No offense, snuggle buns. Love you dearly, but maybe running away together had been a mistake after all."

"Could you shut up for once in your life?" Eddie asked, pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb. "And also, how many times have I told you to fucking quit it with the stupid pet names, ass hat?"

(Richie made a mental note to make sure Eddie took some Ibuprofen later. Eddie always tried to put off taking any kind of medication for as long as he physically could, and of course now knowing why, Richie felt bad that he had to be the one to force him to take a fucking pill when his headache got so bad that he saw spots.)

"We might be able to change the echo," Mike repeated. "We didn't stop Pennywise that summer. Because It is definitely back. We took an oath, and that's why I called you all here. We have to finish what we started, forever."

"Well, that shit got dark fast," Richie said.

He grabbed his beer bottle and found it insufficiently full for the amount of alcohol he needed to consume at that moment. He reached over and swiped Eddie's glass of gross white wine and threw that back as well.

Bill was subconsciously rubbing the palm of his hand, causing Bev to hold her's out, displaying the scar there.

"Pennywise is so ingrained with the very fabric of this town, leaving it causes you to forget it ever existed. It's a safety measure. We thought that the monster was the only thing we needed to defeat, but it's the evil all around."

"And how is that our problem?" Stan asked, but before Mike could answer, the waitress returned with their bill and seven fortune cookies.

And, well, you would never believe what happened next.

\-----------------------------------

"Well, that definitely could have gone a lot worse," Richie said, throwing his suitcase on the bed.

The stupid thing bounced off and landed on the floor with a thud, but he really couldn't bring himself to care, considering it only had clothes in it.

Also because, his childhood friend Mike had just dropped on him and the rest of said childhood friends that they had to band together to defeat and evil child eating clown because of an oath they had made when they were snot nosed teenagers.

Well, Eddie hadn't been snot nosed. He had the most adorable button nose back then, now that Richie could remember. And there was the smallest splattering of freckles that went across that button nose, and snot nosed Richie had wanted nothing more than to lean in as closely as possible and count every single last one of them. He would say it had been the freckles that had first made him fall for his friend, but he wasn't 100% sure that particularly piece of information had come back to him.

Or maybe it was because he had fallen for Eddie hard and fast, so he couldn't pinpoint what it had been exactly. 

Falling in love with Eddie had been like when they'd jump off the cliff into the quarry during the summer -- feet first, with the wind whooshing furiously past your ears.

"Shit was already dark," Eddie said, breaking Richie out of his hopelessly romantic reminiscing. Richie turned around to find his husband sitting daintily on the bedspread, and it really said something about how shocked he was, that he hadn't gone through his usual inspection routine before even thinking of setting foot in a hotel bed. "We knew that. We knew about that clown as soon as Mike called, and we knew that it could only be bad news if Mike called us back to Derry, and still we showed. Why the hell did we show up, Rich?"

"Some misplaced sense of right and wrong?" Richie suggested, feeling Eddie's chest shake slightly with laughter as he climbed into his husband's lap.

"Hhmm. No, that can't be it. I don't think you've ever given a shit about doing what was right in your life," Eddie joked, although it was pretty evident from the latter half of Richie's career, that that wasn't the truth. Eddie started running his fingers through Richie's hair, and Richie arched into the touch like an overgrown cat. "I suppose now that we're here, we'll have to stay, though?"

"I guess we probably should. At least spend the night and get some sleep. See how we feel in the morning."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep," Eddie admitted in a whisper.

"Then we can just lay here," Richie said, pulling Eddie's arms around him, like his favorite winter coat. "Maybe do some necking. Be the teenagers we never got to be in our home town."

"That sounds absolutely disgusting," Eddie said. "Honestly, I'm pretty happy that we didn't have to do any of that sneaking around and heavy petting in cars and all of that. I don't think I would have survived.

"That's true. You would have yelled at me about how many germs there were in the cushions of my truck, kicked me out, and then drove back home so you could shower five times." Eddie pinched his arm, and Richie cried out, but he didn't fight back when Eddie then leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "I hope you know that I'd still love you, even if that had been our beginning. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that," Eddie said quietly. "Before we got our memories back, I used to imagine that we had known each other even before we met in that motel room. I wanted to believe that we had as much time together as we possibly could have. It felt kind of morbid, to think of it that way, but now that I know why subconsciously I thought that way... I wish we had been together in high school so that we did have all that time. Because what if..."

"Hey," Richie said, pushing himself up onto his elbow and turning so he could glare at Eddie. "Don't even go down that road, buttercup. We are making it out of here alive, and I am going to marry you all over again, because I only think that's fair. And we're going to adopt another cat. Maybe not a wrinkly one this time because it isn't long before we're going to start getting wrinkly together. And we're going to die peacefully in our sleep, the same night, and our feline babies are going to eat us so that we're all together forever."

"I hate how romantic that was despite it ending in the most disgusting visual. Also, you know you love Luna, even if she's bald. Stop denying it."

"I love her so much," Richie said, fighting back tears, because he was being truly sincere. "I love that she makes you so happy, and I love waking up in the morning to see her raw chicken looking ass in my face as she snuggles in close to you. And I love that she's ours because _you're mine_ and _I'm your's_. I love you so much, Eddie."

"I love you too, Rich," Eddie said with a sniffle before pulling Richie into a deep kiss. "Hey, maybe we _should_ indulge in some of the teenage stuff we didn't get to do."

"I am down with this plan. Where do we start?" Richie asked, having already sat up and was in the process of putting his shoes back on. "I think none of it will count unless we sneak out the window, so that's my suggestion."

"I am not sneaking out the window," Eddie insisted, but when Richie looked over his shoulder, the weirdo was tying the bed sheets into a rope.

Like this was a prison break.

Maybe it was. Maybe they would go and have the time of their life and leave the other Losers to fight the clown.

But Richie wasn't going to think about any of that right now. He wasn't going to think about how this might be the last intimate moment he would ever have with his husband. He was just going to enjoy it while he could.

"You know," Richie said with a scoff. "You know perfectly well your mother would have never let you out this late. Especially with me in tow."

"Shame she never actually did fall for your charms," Eddie joked, batting his eyes, like evil, seductive Bambi. "I guess that's alright because I always got you _all_ to myself."

Richie had to admit that he was starting to feel like a teenager. His heart was racing as he wordlessly watched Eddie blow him a kiss, hop onto the fire escape, and then climb down into the parking lot with his makeshift rope. Richie was out of breath before he even joined him on the ground, but fumbling down the rope definitely didn't help. He managed to not make a total fool of himself by falling on his face, but once he was safely back on his feet, he rested his hands on his knees as he tried to regulate his breathing. Instead of being a supportive husband, Eddie just made fun of him for being old.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm practically the Crypt Keeper, but then that means you're my sugar baby."

Richie reached over to pinch Eddie's cheek, his hand slapped away as Eddie glared at him.

"Ew, no. I can pay my way, than you very much."

"Of course you can, sweetheart," Richie said, just knowing he had a serious case of heart eyes. "I know that. I just really like spoiling you."

Eddie crossed his arms.

"Well, then, take me to that ice cream parlor that was by the Aladdin, if it's still there, and buy me the most decadent sundae they have on the menu."

"Aye, aye captain!" Richie said, giving Eddie a salute, and then he grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the parking lot. 

He completely bypassed Eddie's car and his, admittedly over the top, rental and started marching them down the street. Sure, they weren't zooming around on their bikes, like they had since they had all learned how to ride, but simply walking rather than driving was still enough to ignite the nostalgia. They recalled stories of their youth during their journey, pointing to this and that as more memories came to them. Slowly, but surely, Richie felt that small part of him that always seemed to be missing start to fill. 

They passed the corner where Stan once tripped on the curb, and he would have fallen right into a moving car, if Mike hadn't reached out and caught him just in time. There was the second hand store that Bev would take them to whenever anyone had spare pocket money, and she would try and improve their sense of style.

(Because they all knew out of the Losers, she was the only one who had any sense of style.)

Then, of course, there was the Aladdin, and Richie smiled as he thought about all of the movies he went to see. Cartoons with Ben, and stuffy dramas with Stan, and romance movies with Bev and Mike, and scary slashers with Eddie. It was always the scary ones with Eddie, because it gave Richie an excuse to hold his hand.

"That's right," Richie said. "We would hold hands at the movies. Hey Eds, we _did_ get to do some teenage couple-y things together!"

"I only let you hold my hand because _you_ actually were scared of those dumb movies," Eddie said, squeezing Richie's hand which he was still currently holding. "I never could understand why you would go to all the trouble of risking getting caught sneaking in when you clearly hated them."

"I did it because you'd hold my hand," Richie said, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. He finally slipped his hand out of Eddie's so he could cover his face. "Oh my God, I was the most embarrassing closet case. Eds, we have to leave. I want to forget all of this again."

"Not until you get me the ice cream you promised."

There was good news and bad news. They had a stroke of luck, because the ice cream parlor was still there and in business nearly three decades later. The bad news, however, was that it was nearly midnight and the place was closed, like everything else in the small town. Even most of the street lights weren't even on, and despite Derry being a town sized haunted house, Richie doubted it could be that they _all_ were broken. They just literally shut the town down.

Which, considering what Mike said about It influencing Derry, it made sense that the citizens did everything they could to prevent anyone leaving at night during the summer. Even if they were unaware why they did it.

"So, what are the odds that they put in a 7-11 since we left?" Eddie asked.

"You really wanted ice cream, didn't you?" Richie asked with a laugh. "You didn't care about anything else? Just that sweet, sweet frozen cow juice."

"Please never call ice cream that again," Eddie said, shoving Richie as he walked past him. "Come on. I guess we'll just have to find something else to do."

"Aw, you'd do that for me? You're too kind. You know I wouldn't mind if we head back to the inn and get you a midnight snack. Though, I have to admit, I'm a little worried. I don't think I've ever seen you eat after midnight. I better keep an eye out and make sure you don't turn into a gremlin."

"You're not allowed to make that reference considering that was just one of many movies you spent most of the time with your eyes firmly closed," Eddie said, and Richie squawked.

(He literally squawked. See what this town did to him? He seriously needed to fish his phone out of his pocket and book his and Eddie's one way tickets back to Chicago.)

"Riiiiiich," Eddie whined, looping his arm through Richie's. "Stop freaking out. I think it's adorable how gone on me you were. Now come on. How about we swing by the quarry?"

Richie blanched.

Not the quarry.

Eddie wanted to talk about how 'far gone' Richie was for him? The quarry was the perfect setting for that, then. As soon as Eddie had said the word, Richie was assaulted with all the burning shame and awkward, oozy lust that came with a Losers trip to the quarry. Richie remembered how he would pray every night that come morning, the temperature would have dropped, and no one would be interested in swimming. And, when he had no such luck, he ended up having to spend the whole day in the water until he became a prune, so that no one would notice just how affected he was by seeing his, frankly unfairly, attractive friends in their skivvies. 

"I'm too old to go skinny dipping," Richie said. "We already had this discussion."

Eddie's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Oh, we're not going into that water. That's disgusting. I don't know how you guys ever convinced me to do that as a kid, but there's no way you'd get me in there now. No, I just thought it might be nice to walk past there at this time of night. See the stars."

"Gosh, you're such a secret romantic, Eds," Richie said, sliding his hand up into Eddie's hair and giving him a noogie. "That's my job, you know, so you... better.... watch..."

"Rich? Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just remembered something." Richie laughed nervously. "Guess we should be getting used to that or otherwise the rest of this trip is going to _really_ suck. Um, anyway, I think I know where we should go next."

The kissing bridge, like all of Derry if Richie was being honest, looked exactly the same as it had 27 years ago. Richie's hands felt as clammy as they had on that fateful day, but this time, instead of desperately clutching onto a pocket knife that he had swiped from his father, he had Eddie's hand to hold onto for comfort. It took him a moment, walking up and down the bridge as he bent awkwardly so he could read all of the carvings, but he eventually found it. He silently pointed it out to Eddie who immediately started crying, the sap.

"We really were meant to be together, huh?" Richie said as Eddie wiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"I hate you so much," Eddie said, between little hiccups as he sobbed. "You even knew just what to do when we were fucking kids. That's not fair. I spent hours planning to suggest a starlit walk by the quarry thinking I was being so damn smooth."

"Oh my God, and you were," Richie said with a laugh. He pulled Eddie into a hug and kissed the top of his head. "I love you so much, Eds."

"I love you too, Rich. I... I need you to know."

The unspoken 'in case we don't get another chance to say it' hung in the air between them. Well, ignoring their little clown problem had been nice while it lasted, but Richie supposed it was time for them to head back to the inn. The walk back went by much faster, but wasn't that just the way time worked? Although, it didn't help that it felt as if they were marching back toward their prison. As they approached the inn, Eddie eyed up the rope that was swaying in the breeze, before heading straight toward the front door.

The illusion was over. The next morning they'd be facing their fears.

\-----------------------------------

(But first, a little life affirming sex.

Which _this_ was definitely never something Richie would have done as a teenager.

Even if he and Eddie had beaten the odds and gotten together [whatever _that_ would have looked like in a homophobic town like Derry in the 80s] Richie highly doubted they would have been ready to 'go all the way' as it were. Because, sure Eddie had all his hang ups surrounding germs, but Richie was at fault as well. He may have forgotten Henry Bowers and all his taunts and he may have forgotten Pennywise threatening to tell the Losers that he was a dirty...

Despite forgetting all of that, he still was terrified about who he was. Some people may think that being in a romantic relationship with another man would scare the man dripping with internalized homophobia off, but loving Eddie was easy. It was being intimate that took the most work. It had taken him nearly a year before he finally was comfortable enough to, well, go all the way.

He had kept telling himself that it was frivolous to buy lube when they were quite literally scrounging for money at times, but they both knew it was an easy excuse. Eddie had never pushed him, though, and Richie fell a little bit more in love with him every time he simply shrugged and repeated, "That's alright. We can always do something else." for the millionth time.

Now, it had been 27 years since Richie had first faced his fears. 23 years since he and Eddie _had_ beaten the odds, albeit a little later than they were pretending, and they had become one. And a mere 22 years since Richie had discovered --

\-- he _really_ loved getting fucked.

There was still a couple hours before daylight, and they still were far too keyed up to catch some shut eye, so Richie pulled Eddie into a kiss as soon as they had stumbled into their room.

He had no trouble asking for it now.

And so he did, pleading against Eddie's lips, whispering "I want it. I need it. Need to remember how you feel if it all goes tits up tomorrow." in between kisses.

Eddie laughed.

"You're lucky I love you.")

\-----------------------------------

Splitting up was a dumb idea.

No, seriously, that was how people died in horror movies, Mike. How did you not realize that? And, yeah, while Richie didn't like their odds anyway, he wasn't going to exacerbate the situation by taunting the clown. He had never been so happy to be a Randy and not a Stu.

Okay, Stu was one of the killers, so that analogy didn't work. Huh. Not too many dudes died in that movie. Good for them.

Anyway, the point was he was clingy a the best of times, but today he was going to plaster himself to Eddie's side and never let him out of his sight. They couldn't convince the rest of the Losers to stick together, except for Mike who admitted he had already found his token before they had landed in Derry.

Richie pleaded with the Losers one last time but they agreed it was best to find their tokens as quickly as possible. And sure, no one wanted to leave Derry as quickly as possible than Richie, but they couldn't leave if they were dead. If only Mike had told them about this cockamamie plan the night before, Richie and Eddie could have found their's, and the Scooby Gang could have split up into pairs.

But noooooo. That would have been too smart of an idea for any of them to think of when it would have been relevant.

So off they went, Richie dragging Eddie and Mike toward the old arcade that was attached to the Aladdin. There was no hesitation. There honestly couldn't have been any other place where his token would be, going by Mike's logic. Or, well, it could have been back at the Kissing Bridge, but he supposed they should try the arcade first and hope that it was something a bit easier to lug around than a chopped up piece of a bridge.

His emotions were truly a roller coaster, having gone from scared to horny to angry to scared again to now determined. He kept his head down as they walked, leaving Eddie and Mike in the dust.

Eddie was still the spitfire he had been when they were kids, but he had mellowed out a little bit with age, and now he did things like make small talk. He had to be good at it, since that role fell onto him when he and Richie were forced to socialize. Richie always apologized for being a terrible husband in that aspect, but as much as he loved his community, he really hated all of the ambrosia scented get togethers they had to suffer through. Eddie would never admit it, but he seemed to enjoy it though, so Richie never felt i>too/i> bad about it.

So Small Talk Eddie made an appearance, and as Richie sulked with his head down, Eddie asked Mike how work at the library was, what his hobbies were, and if he had been seeing anyone.

Mike stared at him as if he had fallen in front of him from another planet, but eventually he started an amicable conversation with Eddie. It was kind of terrifying, all things considered, but Richie supposed he would rather them have a brief moment of levity, because it wouldn't do to have them all shitting bricks, would it? So Richie tuned them out for the most part, grunting when needed here and there. It wasn't until they had slipped into the run down arcade and Eddie gently prodded him that he realized that he should probably say real words.

"You think your token is here?" Eddie asked.

"It's got to be. This was the only place I went to during the fight. Practically grew roots in front of Street Fighter," Richie said with a wet laugh.

He wanted to wipe away the tears that he just knew were flowing freely, but there was no way he could have done it discreetly, and that would have just brought even more attention to the fact that he was crying.

"You love that game. Why do you sound so sad?" Eddie asked, however, because he knew Richie better than he knew himself. Obviously he was going to notice, even in the dingy lighting of the abandoned building. "Really. Playing Street Fighter all day sounds like your ideal summer."

Richie sighed as he managed to get out, "Yeah, well, would have been but... Bowers..."

"Hey," Eddie said softly, pulling him into a hug. "You don't have to tell us anything. We understand."

"Absolutely man," Mike said. "Bowers made all of our lives a living hell. We don't need to rehash that."

"But, don't you think it might be important?" Richie asked around a sniffle. "Like, for the process or whatever? Like, aren't we meant to face our fears, or whatever? Even if it isn't to do with Pennywise?"

"Mike, no," Eddie said, but to no avail. Mike solemnly nodded and Richie started reliving a memory that this time he desperately wished that could have stayed forgotten.

Strange how much the rejection from Connor Bowers still hurt even though Richie hadn't remembered him until he had stepped foot into the arcade five minutes before. The other boy had shown him all too clearly how they had to hide who they were, and Richie had been ashamed that he had been caught with his walls down. 

Sadly, it was just another piece in the giant puzzle of why he did things like locking himself in that motel bathroom after waking up in Eddie's arms so he could empty what little stomach contents he had.

He had been conditioned to hate who he was, and that would have happened without the help of the clown. Oddly enough, that made him a little less scared of the red nosed fucker. In fact, it felt really fucking good to talk about it with two of the people he knew would never judge him for it and would offer him the comfort he needed.

He quickly wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, which was incredibly uncomfortable and just served to irritate them more, since it was leather. Why had he allowed Eddie to convince him to buy some 'actual' clothes? His old, trusty jean jacket wouldn't have been _much_ better, but it would have been better than leather, that's for sure.

"But you know what?" he said, once he had finished his story. He leaned up against the decrepit change machine in the corner, pulling a Fonz, elbowing it and picking up the token that rolled out. "Fuck them. I'm better than them."

"That's great Richie," Mike said, clapping him on the back. "You did it. You've got your token."

"Wait a minute," Eddie said, waving his hands almost violently. "I need you to back this up. You had a crush on someone el... on Connor Bowers?"

"Oh my God, babe. Are you _jealous_?" Richie asked, understandably smug as fuck. Eddie was always on Richie's back about how possessive he would get whenever anyone showed the slightest bit of interest in Eddie, but oh. How the tables had turned. And yet, he wasn't angry at his husband's hypocrisy. He found it adorable, and he knew that he had to tease him a little bit. "Come on. You can't say you didn't have other crushes."

Mike started backing away, clearly not wanting to get caught in the middle of a lover's quarrel, but he stopped dead when Eddie glanced over his shoulder at him.

"Well..."

Richie started laughing, slapping at his knee, the sound echoing loudly in the nearly empty room.

"Oh, nice. Great choice Eds. I definitely approve."

"I think I'm going to give you two some space," Mike said as he started inching toward the exit once more.

Richie was going to reassure Mike that it was alright, and he definitely wasn't mad in any way what-so-ever, but then the arcade seemed to dissolve around them. It was a lot like what Richie assumed being in a water color painting would feel like, watching everything restoring itself to its former glory in front of their eyes. He gulped, waiting to see the scene he had described between a younger him and Connor Bowers or Pennywise just doing his thing, but instead he was greeted with the sight of the younger Losers. They were smiling and being their usual loud and obnoxious selves, running around the arcade and causing havoc. 

Mike and Ben were playing air hockey in the one corner, Mike purposefully hitting the puck far too hard so it would go flying past Ben's head. Bev and Bill were going head to head at a racing game, Bev zooming ahead into first place easily, with Bill paying no mind. Games had never exactly been his thing. Stan was at the ticket counter, trading in a bunch of ripped up tickets that he had collected, although all that really got him was a stick of gum. And Richie and Eddie?

Where else but parked in front of Street Fighter.

Richie was easily beating Eddie and so he kept sneaking glances at the other boy, especially after goading him with some trash talk, watching as his face would turn bright red.

"Were we _that_ obvious?" Adult Eddie asked, sounding embarrassed to his credit.

"Oh yeah," Mike said with a chuckle.

"I'll probably freak out about that aspect of all of this later," Richie said. "All I care about right now is why are we seeing this? This happy shit? Not that I'm complaining, but even when Pennywise would start off his mind games with a fake out, they were never this wholesome."

"I really do think that you two managing to stay together outside of Derry has affected things," Mike said. He was walking around the air hockey table, smiling softly down at his younger self. "I think having you two back here after all this time... It's giving the town strength to break Pennywise's hold."

Richie laughed as he shook his head.

"None of that makes any damn sense, but when has anything in our lives ever made sense, right?"

"Well, it's kind of nice to think that our love could do that," Eddie said quietly, and Richie swore his heart was beating a million times per minute.

"That's probably the sweetest thing you've ever said sweetheart."

Richie leaned down to give Eddie a kiss, surprised when Eddie pushed up on his tip toes to return it, turning it from a quick peck to something a little more than that. Mike finally made his escape, after telling them to 'hurry it up lovebirds.' They didn't take much longer, because despite the sound of laughter coming from the vision of their younger selves, Richie wasn't about to let his guard down that much. Besides, Eddie still had to find his stupid token, so after taking a small moment to themselves, they headed out of the arcade to join back up with Mike.

\-----------------------------------

(Getting Eddie's token didn't go as smoothly.

Richie figured they had used up their good luck for the day, so he wasn't surprised when Eddie had wandered while his back was turned.

Because obviously he had insisted on paying for the dumb inhaler that Eddie had put in an order for after Mr. Keene had made his husband incredibly uncomfortable. When he had turned back around to find Mike pointing frantically toward the basement door.

Richie just sighed and trudged after Mike into the belly of the beast.

Or more like, the emptying of the beast's belly.

They made it just in time to watch the leper projectile vomit onto Eddie mid-scream, and Richie did what he did best.

Sympathy barfed through his fingers.

Had holding your hand over your mouth ever actually stop someone from barfing all over the place? He was going to have to look into that, because now that the thought had implanted itself in his brain, it was never going to leave him alone.

As this was all whizzing by in his head, he missed how Eddie managed to slip from the leper's grasp, but suddenly he was pulling Richie up -- his slimy hands sliding against Richie's leather jacket.

Richie heaved some more, but none of them had the stomach to stop for breakfast, and there was nothing left for him to throw up. 

Eddie and Mike practically had to drag him out of the pharmacy, but not before Eddie fought with the door. Which, of course, Greta fucking Keene had to butt in and say something. Richie wanted to defend his husband's honor, but oh lord, he could hardly stand up straight. He must have slurred something because he could hear her laughing at them as they walked away from that hell hole as quickly as they could.

And as they power walked through Derry, Eddie kept yelling at Mike, 'So much for being special, huh? Huh?!')

\-----------------------------------

It took some time, between Bill taking off to do his knight in shining armor bit and Henry fucking Bowers showing up and _stabbing Eddie in the face_ , but they did eventually discuss it.

And Richie was already grumpy, since he was 0 for 0 on protecting his husband. Like, that was just depressing, and a dumb voice in the back of his head was saying that it wouldn't be surprised if Eddie left him for someone more competent once this was all over. Especially since he finally admitted that It used his sexuality against him, particularly his crush on Eddie. Who would want to stay with someone who had seen you, well a vision of you, die in horrendous ways?

So no one could blame him for being snappy as Mike basically interrogated him, alright?

"Did It ever use anything else against you?" he asked. "I know you once told us you were scared of clowns, but I guess that was you avoiding the truth. Which obviously I don't blame you for."

"No offense man, but I barely open up to my therapist about all of this shit," Richie said with sigh.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel of Eddie's back up truck and Eddie glared at him.

(Was it because Richie was wasting valuable therapy time or because he was fucking up the leather of the steering wheel? Probably the latter, the weird car freak. Richie wished he could be enjoying driving one of Eddie's cars. He never would let anyone, even Richie, touch them. 

But with a hole in his face, he was willing to let someone else drive. And because Richie was still against splitting up, and there was no way the six of them were fitting into his 'you need to know I have a big dick' rental, they had taken Eddie's truck.)

"I know this is all really personal, but I'm just saying, if the only thing you were truly scared of was coming out, then you beat that. It has nothing it can use to scare you now, but Eddie still is scared of germs."

"Hey fuck you man," Eddie said, twisting in his seat so he could jab a finger at Mike. "I'm much better than I used to be. I mean, I know that now. Before we came back, I was just slightly neurotic about germs. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm not saying there is. I'm just saying, if we beat what we're truly scared of, then It no longer has power over us."

"That's a nice thought Mike, but how the hell am I supposed to get over my fear in one day?" Bev asked as she nervously tugged on the sleeve of her jacket.

"You don't," Richie said somberly. "I definitely didn't get over it in a day. I'd actually argue that I'm still not 100% over it."

"I'm not suggesting we try that instead of the ritual," Mike said. "I'm just saying that's my working theory so that Eddie doesn't kill me for 'lying' to him."

"I won't kill you," Eddie said rolling his eyes.

He then winced, obviously the motion more than enough to aggravate the cut in his cheek, and Richie reached over to squeeze his hand reassuringly. Any other time, he knew that Eddie would get on his case about how you need to keep both hands on the wheel at all times, preferably at ten and two, but the whole situation was so fucked up. Like, even more fucked up than it had been the previous night, and Richie was pretty sure all of them could use all the comfort touches they could get at this point.

"It's just, sure, I had all this time to research, but there aren't exactly that many books out there on killer shape shifting clowns," Mike said, getting understandably defensive. "It took a lot of ground work. A lot of hands on work to discover the ritual. I didn't just Google 'ways to kill evil clowns' or something."

"That's some snark on level with me. _Ku_ dos Mike," Richie said as Ben spoke over him, "I think we should all cut Mike some slack."

Richie hated how decidedly perfect Ben was.

(Except not really. One of them had to keep peace before they all slowly fell apart.)

"I may not be killing Mike, but I'm also not cutting him any slack," Eddie said with a pout.

God, Richie wanted to kiss him. A million times seemed like a good enough start, but once he got started, Richie knew that he would have trouble stopping. And that was what last night had been for. They knew that it could very well have been the last time that they would ever be intimate with each other. Richie had to accept that and focus on the problem at hand: stopping Bill from getting himself killed by taking on Pennywise by himself.

Which probably meant that they were _all_ going to get themselves killed, but hey.

Losers stick together.

"We're almost there, if I remember correctly," Stan said quietly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, twirling it around in his hand. "I know I shouldn't, but I... I want to call Patty. Say goodbye without scaring her too much, you know?"

He looked over at Mike who offered him a sad smile before nodding.

"Yeah, man. I'm not going to stop you. I can understand wanting closure with your loved ones just in case."

"Richie and I went on a date after dinner last night exactly for that reason," Eddie admitted, and Richie laughed nervously at his use of the word 'date.' "Shut up, Rich. Don't act like you didn't love it."

Richie waggled his eyebrows in the rear view mirror, making sure everyone in the backseat could see the motion.

"Oh, I loved every minute of it."

"I hate both of you," Stan said as he dialed his wife's number.

Ben reached over and took Bev's hand in his extremely gently and Eddie, going against everything he stood for, leaned into the back seat and gave Mike a kiss on the cheek. The mood in the truck was so dark and yet Richie had never felt so surrounded by love in his life. If this was the way he was going to go out, he couldn't complain. Actually, as morbid as it was to say, if he could have _picked_ any way to go out, this is how he would want to.

At least he showed every hater that ever implied he'd be the next B-list celebrity to by found dead by erotic asphyxiation.

\-----------------------------------

Fuck Bev.

Okay, not really. Richie still loved Bev with all his heart. She would steal him cigarettes when he started smoking at 15. She had been the one to sneak out and stay up all night in the clubhouse, holding him as he cried, without making him talk about what was upsetting him.

But his problem with her at the moment was that she had failed to mention how fucking brutal being caught in the Deadlights truly was.

First off, being dragged up twenty feet into the air, even if done so supernaturally, fucking hurt. 

Then, there was the fact that he was conscious of the fact that what he was seeing was a hallucination and yet, at the same time, it felt incredibly real. So incredibly real that he could feel his heart break into a million pieces as he watched Pennywise kill Eddie. He could see it from above, like a messed up schlubby god, but he also could see it from Possible Future Richie's perspective, the claw coming through Eddie's chest, and the blood splattering across his face, hot and burning.

He watched as the Losers had to physically drag him out of the house as it came down around them, and as he tried to scrub his _dead husband's blood_ off his glasses in the dirty quarry water, and then as he mutely went through the motions for who knows how long Pennywise deemed to show him. 

It could have been minutes. It could have been just those few days as the living Losers made their way out of Derry. It felt more like years, but it could have even have been the rest of his miserable life.

It didn't matter, though, because any time without Eddie felt like torture.

Richie knew that whenever this spell was finally broken, he was going to have to do whatever it took to prevent that future from coming to fruition. 

(Because going into this he had thought that the worst case scenario was that they were all going to die. He had never dreamed of the possibility that he would survive and have to go on without Eddie. That was honestly a fate worse than death.)

He woke up in even more excruciating physical pain, radiating from his legs all the way up his side. But it really was nothing compared to everything that he had went through. He blinked his eyes open to see Eddie kneeling above him, the visions he had just seen running through his mind, and the breath caught in his throat. No, he couldn't do this again. He had to get them out of here. He only had a minute, maybe two at the most, before Pennywise attacked, so that didn't exactly leave him many options. Especially since he was about 95% sure that he had broken his legs, so it wasn't like he was going to be able to run away. The first real idea that came to mind was shoving Eddie out of the way, because he would do anything to save him, even if it might getting hurt himself.

But he couldn't put Eddie through that pain either. So, maybe they were both a little too co-dependent. They could work on that later, when they got home in one piece.

"There he is," Eddie was saying fondly, cupping Richie's cheek in his hand. "Hey, Rich, I think I killed It."

"You didn't," he blurted out. "No time right now. Eds, move out of the way and pull me with you."

"What? Rich, no. You just fell and could have seriously injured your spine. I'm not going to move you."

"God, you're so fucking sweet. I love you," Richie said as he felt someone from behind grab his shoulders and pull him up.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Mike pulling him along the ground as Ben grabbed Eddie's hand and pull him in the opposite direction as his stupid yet gorgeous husband immediately started yelling at the both of them. Just as he was screeching at Richie to keep his head straight because that could aggravate any possible spinal cord injury, Pennywise's claw came crashing down on the spot where they had just been. Eddie stopped mid-rant, his mouth hanging open in an almost perfect O and having successfully defended his husband for the first time that day, Richie allowed himself a little celebratory cry.

Or maybe that was just because all the adrenaline that had shot through him needed to leek out somehow.

Also, his legs were fucking killing him. Mike had pulled him into a secluded alcove that's opening was small enough there was no way Pennywise could get in there in It's current form. He propped Richie up against the wall before collapsing on the other side, and now that Richie wasn't being dragged around, he could admit to himself that yeah. Maybe Eddie had been right about moving him being a bad idea, but it wasn't like they really had any other options.

The other Losers crowded in after them, Eddie gently laying next to Richie, running his hands above his body but not quite touching, as he checked him over.

"So, if Eddie wasn't able to kill It after literally stabbing It in the face, what the fuck do we do?" Bill asked.

(It was good to see him finally thinking before he acted. Even if it was perhaps a little too late.)

"I almost did kill It," Eddie said and Richie murmured what he hoped was a reassuring 'Of course you did, baby.' "No, I meant earlier. At the pharmacy. I was choking the leper. Now it's just that It's a spider the size of a skyscraper. It'll probably just take a little more than choking it out to do it."

"Eddie's right," Ben said. "We have to at least keep trying."

"Yeah, or we'll be stuck in this cave forever," Stan added.

There weren't many choices for weapons left at that point, so everyone gathered up loose rocks and ran back out into the fight. Eddie was the last, lingering behind to kiss Richie with a whispered 'I love you' before dashing out as he flung a few choice insults before flinging his rocks. It was tough to lay there, unable to see what was happening and only being able to anxiously wait, but when he felt the ground start to shake underneath him --

\-- he knew that it was finally over.

They had won.

He was only able to enjoy it for a second before realizing that there was no way he was going to be able to climb out of there with the state of his legs. They were going to have to leave him down here and save themselves. At least it was him instead of Eddie. Leaving Eddie in the filthiest place imaginable just wouldn't have been right, but it was almost a fitting resting place for the Trashmouth. He was already preparing his moving and heartfelt speech for when they returned, so they wouldn't have to worry about the morals of it all, when Ben swooped in and fit Richie onto his back.

"Alright buddy. Don't know if you noticed, but it's time to go."

"Ben, I can definitely feel _all_ of your muscles right now, but I really don't think any one person is that strong that they can carry a pudgy dude like me up a ladder."

"Considering the alternative is Eddie kills me for not trying, we're going to do our best," Ben said, somehow sounding glib despite the world literally falling apart around them.

Surprisingly enough, it was all Richie needed to put him at ease. His eyelids had been drooping ever since he knew for sure that Eddie was safe and sound, and he finally let himself be succumbed by sleep.

(Or maybe he had simply passed out. That would make a hell of a lot more sense.)

He woke up in a hospital room, and all he could see was his legs in casts and hung up with some metal rods.

"Holy shit. I thought they only did that in movies," he said.

"Oh my God, Richie. You're finally awake," a voice he knew better than his own cried out. Eddie came into view and started kissing him all over his face. He only pulled back for a moment to add, "And of course they're going to elevate your legs. The casts could cause them to swell up, dumb ass."

"I love you too," Richie said and pulled him into a real kiss.

"I know the giant Sasquatch fucker has ginormous legs and can't actually see us, but he does realize we're in the room, right?" Stan asked, and Eddie jumped back in embarrassment.

"Oh hey guys," Richie said with no shame what-so-ever. "So, we did it, right?"

"Yeah, we did it. We killed It," Mike said, stepping between Richie's leg so he could see him.

(And well, wasn't _that_ a sight. Just don't tell Eddie he said that.)

"Do you think with It gone that we'll be able to keep our memories when we leave?"

"I'm not entirely sure. It's been here so long and affected Derry so deeply, I'm not sure that the town itself might not still have residual magic attached to it. I'm afraid we're just going to have to find out when we leave."

"We? You finally going to get to see Florida, eh, Mikey?"

"Florida sounds great right about now," Bev chimed in. "If you don't mind some company."

"No, that sounds great actually. I'd actually love if all of you could join me."

"I think we all deserve a vacation after what we went through," Bill agreed. "But that'll mean we have to wait until Richie is out of the casts."

"Naw, it's cool. Just grab me one of the wheelchairs that has to be out there and let's go. Florida sounds like the perfect place to renew me and Eddie's vows anyway. Although that might just be me being selfish. I'd love to see Eddie in one of those white gauzy button ups guys down there always wear. That'd be hot, right babe?"

"What makes you think I'd marry you a second time when you say stuff like that?" Eddie asked with a grumble.

"Ah, come on babe. You know you want to get married with all of our friends there."

Eddie smiled down at his husband and then at the rest of the Losers scattered across the room.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I do. I want nothing more than that. To have our family there."

(And that had been one of the many things that came back to him as he had wandered around the streets of Derry the night before.

One of those rare nights when Eddie was being completely serious with him, talking in hushed whispers as they curled up in Richie's bed during a sleep over.

'Family doesn't just mean actual blood relatives, you know?' he had asked, barreling on before Richie could respond. 'My mother may be my mother, but she doesn't love me. No, you guys love me for who I am. You're my real family.'

'Of course Eds. We'll always be your family.'

'You promise?'

'Even when I'm old and can't walk and remember any of you, we'll still be family.'

Wild how he actually had been able to keep that promise down the letter, huh? 

Best. Husband. Ever.)


End file.
